Night Owls
by La Voz de Alma
Summary: Brennan is up late sorting ot details for her new book; Booth helps with some "inspiration." It's five chapters of graphic smut and drinking. If you're not into the whole zestiness between BB, this is not your cup of tea.
1. Part I

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended_

Part I

'She said no, and maybe that is all that counts', Booth thought. The federal agent shook his head, thinking of the indignity of that physicist pursuing Bones so soon after his lover's death. Booth was never particularly fond of the Jeffersonian lab. It was so bright and sterile, the smell of disinfectant burned in his nostrils. The kind of place that blind, unwashed jerk would love. Booth would not have even had a reason for being here, but Bones had managed to leave her cell phone in the SUV. The incessant buzzing, indicating a failing battery, had alerted him to the device's presence under the passenger seat.

Booth's muffled footsteps sounded like thunder in the hollow, stainless steel space. He wondered if she would still be here this late, long after even the cleaning crew made its rounds. The lights were dimmed and the emergency lights made the cavernous laboratory seem even colder. A pale amber rectangle of light broke the dark silence, twisting around the second floor railing and the equipment below. 'She's here' he thought with a small smile.

Bones hadn't answered her office phone since they had parted hours before, letting all of her calls go to her Jeffersonian voicemail. Booth wondered if she was planning on spending another Friday night piecing together the bone fragments of a person whose name had long been forgotten in the torrents of history. But, instead she sat perched on the edge of her desk chair, eyes focused intently on the glowing screen in front of her.

Standing in the shadows of the metal steps below the anthropologist's office, Booth watched as Bones rapidly typed at her computer. He couldn't decide if he could hear the tic-tic-tic of her fingers on the keys, or if he simply was envisioning her long finger dancing across the keyboard's surface, like a skilled pianist playing a concerto. Shuffling up the metal-frame staircase he approached her office, her back to him. Bones' cell phone pitifully buzzed in his pocket, distracting him from losing himself in the vision before him.

Her conservative sweater was carelessly discarded on the floor behind her chair; it must have slipped off the back, and she hadn't noticed. Her shoulders were bare; Bones had been wearing one of those camisoles underneath her sweater that Booth loved so much. He knew she selected them for comfort and practicality, but the smooth silky fabric and teeny straps were terribly sexy. Booth wondered what was so engaging that the otherwise meticulous doctor failed to notice the sweater's tumble to the floor. Her boots were tossed to the side of her desk. She had purposefully made herself comfortable for this activity.

She rolled her head back lazily, eyes closed, lip parted and moist. Booth leaned in, but aware of staying in his camouflaged position, just outside of the skewed patch of light. Her cheeks were flushed. Bones took a depth breath, the full swell of her breasts rising – threatening the security of the tiny straps of her blouse - and then returned to her task. The tightness in his groin became apparent. He knew she was aroused – and Booth enjoyed knowing it from his secret vantage point.

'It's Friday night and she's writing the sex-scene for her next book.' Booth knew that his partner drew inspiration from her life. It often seemed that she fantasized through her heroine, and he hoped that she was fantasizing about him at this very moment. The muscles in her neck and shoulders were taut, like a spring wound too tight. She was excited and frustrated. Her feet flexed under her desk, as if she were waiting to pounce. But there was no prey as Bones sat alone in her office. And then, what Booth feared happened, she turned completely around in her chair and looked at him – her eyes locking with his.


	2. Part II

Part II

'I'm a dead man' Booth thought as he sheepishly moved to the glass door, and slipped inside, hoping his half-mast erection wasn't apparent. "What are you doing here Booth?" Bones demanded. Her voice wasn't angry, but she seemed annoyed. He thrust the cell phone into the air between them awkwardly, "You left this in the truck." She watched him for a moment, but didn't take the device from him. The tension was thick, and Booth felt silly holding the small black phone, so he gently placed it on her desk. "You didn't answer the phone, so I thought maybe you were working on something for the museum," he offered, hoping to break the silence. Bones was still quiet; she was measuring him and the situation.

"Why didn't you knock on the door?" she asked after a long moment. Booth shifted from one foot to the other, damning his penis for enjoying their interaction in spite of him. She raised her eyebrows and he couldn't ignore how delicious her nipple looked pressed against the silky fabric of her camisole. He winced, allowing himself the thought that her nipples were likely the same lovely shade as the flimsy salmon blouse. "I was afraid of disturbing you. You seemed…busy," Booth's voice sounded oddly high pitched and strained.

"Well, you're here now," Bones stated flatly. Then Booth saw it, the tiny smile pulling at the edges of her mouth. She was teasing him, and he had played right into her game. A full-bodied laugh ripped from his throat and she joined him with a fit of giggles. It was the same giggling that he adored. Her laughter was so rare, that he felt rewarded when she gave into it. Booth relaxed and shed his coat, tossing it on the arm of the couch. Bones continued to smile, pushing a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

"Whatcha doing this late?" Booth asked, finding his normal voice again. Bones leaned forward into her chair, giving him her full attention. "It's for the new book. My publisher is expecting more and more of them, and with less time in between" she revealed. "And it couldn't wait until tomorrow?" Booth pursued. Bones shook her head, "No. I was inspired, or at least I thought I was. I'm stuck and it's frustrating."

Booth wondered how sex could be uninspired, at least not in a book by Dr. Temperance Brennan. All of her books had notoriously steamy sex scenes between the two main characters, and he rather enjoyed it. "Can't catch the bad guy?" Booth added with a chuckle, feigning ignorance. Bones blushed, "Well, no. But there is supposed to be intercourse between to the two main characters, you know, to help build the suspense. It is just not moving the story along like I hoped it would." It was an honest response, Booth mused as he leaned against the desk next to her, his "cocky" belt buckle level with her face. She looked up at him, waiting for a response. There was just a shrug of his shoulders instead. It was the first time Bones had ever talked about a book with him before it was finished.

The silence was strange once more and Booth suddenly questioned standing so close. 'I must be interrupting her' he thought. "Maybe we should get a beer; sometimes that helps clear my head" Booth offered. Bones' face lit up, "I have a better idea." She pulled open her bottom desk draw, retrieving a sealed beaker with a clear liquid inside. "I confiscated this from Hodgins after the New Year's party. You would think that he would stop making alcohol here in the lab," Bones said, pulling the black rubbed cap off of the container. "You are not seriously planning on drinking that, are you?" Booth asked, wary of anything that Hodgins concocted.

"You wanted to help, right?!" Bones responded, smiling. She rose from her desk and took a few long strides to the water cooler, extracting two paper cups from the dispenser sleeve. "Come on, Booth, don't be such a prude!" she pleaded. "All right, one drink, but be careful, I've heard rumors about Hodgins spiking the punch," Booth gave in. It was not like he had somewhere else to be. He took the beaker from her desk and joined her on the couch.

Pouring the clear, caustic liquid into the tiny paper vessels Booth asked, "Why is it so important for the story that the characters have sex?" Bones cringed at the warm liquid burning in her throat, tears forming along the lash-line of her clenched eyes. "I need the characters to be at a very vulnerable stage, and sex seems to be the best way to do this. And it's what the readers will like," she coughed. Booth, also sputtering around the harsh beverage, nodded his head. "Okay, that makes sense. So what's the problem?" he wasn't sure what he was probing for, but Bones was so different when she wasn't talking about death and anthropology. People were what he was good at; it was his thing. He liked Bones when she acted like a person.

"It needs to be passionate, but their relationship is romantic. It seems difficult to balance wild sex with their shared affections," Bones poured more alcohol into the little cups. "Bones, two people can have passionate, wild sex and be deeply in love. In fact, I think that love makes it better because they trust each other," Booth swallowed his drink hard, worrying his words were becoming too honest.

Bones, ignoring her paper cup, lifted the beaker to her lips, and took a long swig. Her chest rose and fell, and a pink flush bloomed on her face and chest. She stood; her body becoming inappropriately close to his. "Booth, maybe if you feel so strongly about it, you should help me find some inspiration," she dared him. The soft air whipping around her body brought a dizzying swirl of her scent around his head. 'This is what I wanted, isn't it?' Booth thought as he rose to meet her. The warmth between them was growing.


	3. Part III

Part III

Her lips met his, as he laced his fingers through her soft hair. It was incredible, more so than either had anticipated. Booth breathed into Bones' open mouth her tongue meeting his. He pulled her into him, an arm snaking around her waist, his chest hard against her full, soft breasts. Bones groaned as his erection pressed against her belly, feeling a surge of heat and wetness flood between her legs. This was not the tender, loving embrace she kept rewriting over and over on her computer screen.

Her fingers busied themselves with his shirt buttons, needing to feel more of his skin. Bones wanted this, but not for the book. Too many times their bodies touched with no release. But not tonight; tonight they would find that release together. The tips of her fingers brushed against the velvety soft triangle of flesh at the apex of Booth's open shirt. The golden skin pebbled in response, encouraging her further exploration. Booth growled into Bones' open mouth, roughly pulling her head from his. He possessively kissed her exposed neck and shoulder.

Not a woman to play the passive damsel, Bones pushed Booth back on to the couch, knocking the wind out of him. Crawling atop of his lap, she planted a knee firmly on either side of his splayed thighs. Grabbing fistfuls of his cotton shirt, she yanked it from the confines of his pants. "Do you always have to be in control, Dr. Brennan?" Booth taunted. Leaning forward Bones hissed a throaty, "Yes." Gripping the front of Bones' camisole, Booth yanked the dainty fabric down, exposing her breasts to the cool air, her nipples tightening into hard, dark points. A small squeal slipped from her lips as he sucked one into his hungry mouth. Momentarily Bones let herself give in to Booth's ministrations, letting her eyes flutter close. It wasn't enough; it had been far too long, and he was slowing into a gentle rhythm prematurely.

Bones tried to gain leverage over Booth, but succeeded in only sending them over the back of the couch. In a terribly uncomfortable tangle of limbs, the weight of their situation was suddenly very real. Draped over his body she felt exposed, and reached for the top of her blouse. Sensing Bones' sudden hesitation Booth pushed both bodies up, looking intently at her. "Do you still want my help?" he asked. Bones swallowed. Hard. This was going to happen. After a moment, she nodded.

Pulling her upright onto her knees next to him, Booth leaned in, his lips lightly brushing her ear, "Bones, I'm going to fuck you against the window… I've always wanted to see your tits pressed against the glass; your hands against the glass… If there was someone here, they'd be able to watch me fucking you... And you would just have to watch them watching me fuck you from behind... I'm going to fuck you because you want me to. It's not that I don't love you, but I want to fuck you… I think you want it this way, too… Do you want me to make love to you, or do you want me to fuck you?" Bones had never heard Booth say anything so vulgar, and certainly not to her. Yet, she had never been so aroused in her life. He voice was quiet and calm. Turning her head, she caught his lips in a fierce kiss, sucking the air from his lungs. "Fuck me, Booth" she answered against his lips.


	4. Part IV

Part IV

Pulling her up as he stood, Booth spun the doctor around, pressing his erection against her bottom. "Tonight Bones, you're going to let me have control," the words were as much a command as they were a fact. Sliding his large hands down her bare arms, Booth laced his fingers with hers. Parting her legs with his knee, Booth shoved Bones against the glass wall of her office. Flinching at the cold, smooth surface against her breasts, Bones realized how vulnerable she was. With the blinds pulled open anyone could see her, breasts mashed against the glass wall, Booth's mouth teasing her neck. Even though not another person would be in the Jeffersonian at this time of night, Bones felt a surge of excitement at the prospect of being caught in such an improper position.

Bringing their joined hands together on either side of Bones' face, Booth commanded, "No matter what, don't move your hands. If you move, I'll stop." A flash of anger coursed through her blood; Bones was not someone who normally took orders. The sound of metal and the shifting of his hips next to hers let her know he was opening the front of his pants. The heavy muffled sound of fabric colliding reaffirmed her suspicions – his dangerously hard and unclothed erection was beaconing behind her. Bring his hands to the front of Bones' jeans Booth unfastened the button and zipper. Gripping the denim waist of her pants, and the panties underneath, he stripped the articles from her hips, crouching down, and bringing them to her ankles.

Grasping her buttocks momentarily and squeezing softly, Booth relished in the idea that they had never been so naked together before. And so far, her hands had remained planted to their position on the window. Standing once more, he shifted so closely against her, that his penis was forced between her legs. The hot, wet warmth of her sex was overwhelming. It would take all of Booth's patience, because he was already so close to climax. Never in a million years did he, Special Agent Seeley Booth, think he'd being living out this sexual fantasy, especially not with the object of his love and arousal, Dr. Temperance Brennan.

Reaching between her legs, Booth wanted to be sure that she was as ready as he was. Slipping his fingers between her soft folds, he pressed one finger into her snug channel, surprised at the tightness he found. Her walls were slick with arousal. She was definitely ready, but he would have to start slow; it clearly has been a while for her as well. A second finger accompanied the first, finding only momentary resistance. Bones' body surrendered to Booth's touch, her vaginal muscle tugging at his digits, begging for more. His thumb found her clitoris, hard and protruding from its tiny hood. Her excitement only aroused him further. His erection now painfully stiff begged to be buried inside of her.

Bones groaned in protest as Booth removed his hand. Smeared with her wetness he pumped a few strokes across the head of his engorged penis; then he slid between her soft thighs, their shared heat overwhelming. Nudging her entrance, Booth found his self-control waning. "Fuck me, Booth!" Bones urged; her voice breathy and low. Any hopes of gentleness shattered, and he lunged forward burying himself inside her dripping sheath. A cry of pain and pleasure tore from her lips. 'It's been so long' she thought, tying to adjust to his size.

Placing his hands on top of Bones', Booth held her body in place with his. He unclenched his gluteus muscles, his penis pulling out until only the tip remained buried. With a shred deep breath, he lurched forward, plunging into her entirely. Quickening his pace, he stroked into her without abandon. The head of his penis finding her pleasure spot with each return. Raw screams streamed from Bones' lips in intelligible nonsense. Booth's grunts joined hers as they neared the peak of their crescendo. Bringing one of his hands to her hips, he sought out her aching clitoris. Her breathing was fast and shallow; with his thumb he began to rub her sensitive nub once more.

Giving herself to the flood of pleasure, Bones submitted and was overcome by her orgasm. The spasms of her release seemed to pull Booth in deeper. Thrusting wildly, he felt his testicles grow heavy, and then suddenly he felt weightless. Pumping his hot semen deep into her womb, Booth finished, slumping forward against his partner. Kissing the back of Bones' neck, Booth looked up to see a fog of condensation that had formed on the once pristine glass. A noticeable outline formed where her hands never left their place.

Releasing Bones from his grasp, Booth stepped back slowly, watching as she collected her head. Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled brightly. "Thank you, Booth. I don't think I have ever felt so inspired," Bones said, straightening her clothing. Something dark and worried passed over Booth's face. Opening his mouth he was silenced by a hand. "Whatever this was, we both agreed to it. Let's just let it go for now," her oddly intuitive words brought Booth relief.


	5. Part V

Part V - Epilogue

The weekend came and went as expected. Booth took Parker to a baseball game. Bones filed a set of Native American remains for repatriation. As the sun peaked through the Jeffersonian skylights Monday morning, an excited voice called from the laboratory floor."Oh, honey, you have something you must tell me," Angela announced. Bones stepped outside of her office, looking to her friend below. "Angela, what are you saying?" displaying a face of blank puzzlement. Her friend smiled widely and pointed to the office's window. Illuminated by the unfiltered morning light, smudged silhouettes stood brightly on the otherwise sparkling glass: two sets of hand prints, the side of a face, and a pair of concentric circles. Laughing with sparkling eyes, Hodgins meandered past Angela with a cup of coffee and a cheeky 'thumbs-up,' "Way to go Dr. B!" Groaning to herself, Bones returned to her office in search of window cleaner sand a towel, 'Sweets is never going to let this one go.'


End file.
